


Neal Caffrey, Suspect at Large

by Caitie_Riddle



Category: White Collar
Genre: Corruption, F/M, FBI, Guns, On the Run, Secrets
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-07-26 11:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7573087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitie_Riddle/pseuds/Caitie_Riddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal ran and disappeared without a trace two years ago. He left behind everything that he had worked for once he got out of prison. Peter finally finds him, but was the situation as black and white as he thought it was, or was it a shade of grey?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Peter Burke sat at his kitchen table in the dead of night nursing a cold cup of coffee. He was remembering his old partner, Neal Caffrey. Caffrey had cut his anklet in the dead of night almost two years ago and no one had seen him since. All that was left of him was a piece of paper with goodbye in Neal's handwriting and his black, felt fedora.

Unlike the last time Agent Burke was chasing Neal Caffrey, there was no trace. Maybe a forgery there or a art theft here, but nothing concrete enough to find him.

The day before was ordinary enough. Neal went of anklet for an undercover operation to catch a diamond smuggler. Everything went according to plan and the perp was behind bars by the end of the day. Peter locked the tracking anklet and Neal went home; next thing he knows he's being woken up in the middle of the night by his phone ringing and Jones is telling him that Neal removed his anklet.

He sighed and took a sip of ice cold coffee. He grimaced at the taste and placed it back on the table as he stared off into space.

Once Neal ran and it became obvious that he was doing it willingly, the White Collar division launched a manhunt. The BOLO went out and wanted posters were printed. Peter and his team canvased his former partner's apartment. They didn't find anything and by the end of the week, Neal Caffrey was still at large.

He was forced to hand over the investigation to another department as he was deemed too personally involved in the investigation. Even two years later, every action and investigation he led was under intense scrutiny.

He sighed again as he stood up and dumped his disgusting coffee in the sink. He walked up the stairs and got in to bed next to his sleeping wife.

He had to face facts. Neal Caffrey wasn't his friend and partner, he was a greedy conman and a thief who manipulates the people around him to get what he wants.


	2. Chapter 1

Peter Burke walked into the FBI White Collar division. Things in the office were relaxed, they had just closed a big case so they were looking over mortgage fraud and cold cases.

"Burke." yelled Hugues from across the office. He pointed two fingers at Peter and motioned him into his office.

If Neal where here he'd be asking him what he did to earn the double finger_ STOP! He couldn't think about Caffrey in that way. He was a criminal. End of discussion.

Once Peter had entered Hugues' office and closed the door, he noticed the man in the corner. He was dressed in a pure black suit, black tie, and a pristine white shirt.

"Agent Burke, please take a seat." said Hugues.

Peter sat down without taking his eyes off of the agent in the corner. The agent cleared his throat and placed a file on the desk. He opened it and Peter had to restrain himself from jumping out of his chair. Inside the file were surveillance photos of Neal boarding a private airplane.

"I'm in charge of the manhunt for Neal Caffrey. We've narrowed his location down to Ma'ili, Oahu. It's a small community and home to a Navel Radio Transmitter Facility."

Peter couldn't believe what he was hearing. After two years of nothing, they knew where he was.

"With all due respect. What do you need me for?" Peter asked. He was kicked off the investigation.

"We are too close to lose him now. You have caught him twice. We can't take any chances right now."

Peter was Nodding his head as the agent spoke, but his mind was miles away. He was going to see Neal again after two years. What was he going to say? Will he find out why he ran?

"So I'm sure you can understand why we need you to be the one to make the arrest."

Peter shook himself out of his thoughts. It didn't matter now.

"Of course. Agent?"

The unnamed agent smile slightly and held out his hand.

"Agent Reeves." he said, finally introducing himself.

They shook hands and Peter was left alone in the office. Hughes must have stepped out when he was distracted.

Was this real?

Was he really going to see Neal?

Is he okay?

The last Question was one That he had desperately tried not to think about, now it consumes every other thought.

He shakily took his phone out of his pocket and speed dialed El.

It rang twice before she picked up.

"Hello?"

Peter let out the breath he was holdimg. Just the sound of his wife's voice had a cathartic effect t on him.

"Hey Hon "

"Peter? What's wrong."

He chuckled. Of course she knew that something was up. Nothing ever got past her.

With a heavy heart he told her everything that he was told in the meeting with Agent Reeves.

She was silent for a while before she answered.

"So you're going?"

"Yeah. I need to end this."

They both just sat in silence for a while. El eventually told him that she'd pack his bag so it would be ready for him and then hung up.

Peter Burke cast one more look at the file on the desk. The picture sat there mocking him.

He stood up and walked out of the bullpen.


	3. Chapter 2

Peter Burke shielded his eyes as he exited the air terminal in Ma'ili. He stuck out like a sore thumb, his suit not blending in among the tourists in bright Hawaiian print shirts and cheap fabric leas you could buy at any dollar store.

When he had gotten home from the office, El had his suitcase packed and ready for him. She was upset, but didm't try to stop him from leaving. She, like him, knew that it was pointless.

He reaffirmed what he already knew in his mind.

No more deals.

No more grey areas.

No more second chances.

Neal had brought this fate on himself. He repeated this to himself all the way to the house where he believed Neal was. It was a two story, Spanish style house with big, open windows on the first floor. He could actually see into the living room and kitchen.

His heart gave a pang when he saw Neal in the kitchen. He was at the island and reading a book. 

'He looks good.' Peter thought. It was true. Neal's hair had grown out a bit, he was wearing an unbuttoned blue shirt over a white undershirt. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans.

Peter sighed and opened his car door to get out and make the arrest when he was stopped in his tracks.

A beautiful women had approached Neal from behind and hugged him around the middle. He turned around to face herald rested his hands on her waist while she moved her's to his shoulders. They were talking and, by the look of their smiles, flirting.

She had long, auburn hair and flawless slightly tanned skin. The form-fitted tank top and jean shorts showed a toned body. He couldn't see her eye collar from his place across the street.

Peter closed the car door and sunk into his seat.

He couldn't do it. He was expecting_. Well, he didn't know what he was expecting, but not this. Not Neal in a beautiful house, with a beautiful woman who he seemed to really care about, and not happy. Not truly happy.

He picked up his phone and called the number that he had plugged into his phone on the flight over.

"Agent Reeves. I'm going to need another agent with me to make the arrest."

"Of course. I'm close. I can meet you at your current location in ten minutes."

Peter sighed. "Thank you. I'll see you there."

Peter hung up and closed his eyes. He couldn't make the arrest alone. If he did then he'd end up letting Caffrey walk. If someone else were there, he wouldn't have a choice. He would have to make the arrest.

Peter watched as the woman walked out the front door. She had changed into running clothes and it looked like she'd be gone for a while. Reeves' black SUV pulled up behind his rental car. They both got out and approached the house.

Surprisingly, the door was unlocked and they were able to enter the house without alerting the target. They walked across the living room with their guns drawn. They could see Neal in the kitchen. His back was turned and he hand't seen them yet.

"FBI! Put your hands in the air and turn around!"

Neal tensed up. Peter could see the muscles bunched up through tieback of his shirt. Slowly, with his hands up, Neal turned around. His eyes widened when he registered Peter.

"Hello Peter." said Neal. His voice was calm and relaxed. Peter would have been fooled if he hadn't known him so well. Neal was panicking and tense.

Neal's eyes darted to something over his shoulder. Before he could turn around to see what it was something hit him on the back of the head. His head exploded in pain before everything went black.

Before he passed out, he heard the deafening sound of a gunshot.


	4. Chapter 3

"Peter," said Neal, "please tell me you have anything for me to do! I'm desperate enough for mortgage fraud!"

It was a slow day at the FBI office and Peter was enjoying it. Neal, however, did not do well in such conditions.

Peter sighed. "What happened to the huge stack of case files I had sent to your desk?"

"I finished them."

Peter stared at Neal gobsmaked.

"That was at least at least fifteen cases!" Peter said in disbelief.

"Actually eighteen, but who's counting?" said Neal as he sat down in the chair in front of Peter's desk and kicked his legs up.

"I'm not here to stave off boredom." said Peter as he nudged Neal's Italian-leather clad feet off of his desk.

"There is a ton of stuff to do. I can tell you all about it as soon as you wake up." said Neal as he tossed his fedora up into the air.

"Okay, I'll bite. What do you mean 'wake up'?" asked Peter, prepared for a completely ludicrous answer.

Neal's entire demeanor changed. He stood up and braced himself with his hands on the desk as he leaned closer.

"It means that you need to wake up."

WC*WC*WC*WC*WC*

"Peter wake up!"

smack

Peter's eyes shoot open. His cheek was stinging from where Neal's hand had slapped him.

"Sorry about that."

Peter fixed his eyes on Neal's blue ones. He was right there. Just three feet away.

It finally registered that Peter was sitting down in a kitchen chair. With his arms and legs restrained.

"Neal what are you doing!" shouted Peter. Suddenly everything that Neal's disappearing act had caused came back at once. The betrayal, the panic, and most of all, the anger. Peter Burke was angry, no he was absolutely livid.

The woman that he had seen earlier with Neal entered the room and Peter's attention was focussed on her.

"It was a through and through. It missed all the organs and arteries. He'll be back on his feet in no time." she said.

She peeled of a pair of bloody latex gloves and threw them in the sink. She picked up some wallets, picked what looked like IDs out of them, and threw them in the sink as well. To finish it off, she drizzled some lighter fluid on top and lit it on fire.

Peter's blood ran cold.

"You." he said, glaring at the woman. "You shot a federal agent! You'll be serving twenty-five years to life for that!"

"Peter enough!"

Peter turned his head around and fixed his glare on Neal.

"She didn't shoot him. Thats was me." Neal said, speaking calmly.

Peter was sure that his eyes had widened farther then they ever had before. Neal? Neal shot someone?!?! That was like Ghandi committing murder.

The woman seemed to take his silence as her cue to speak.

"He didn't really have a choice. Agent Reeves was aiming to kill." she said determinedly.

Peter's head was spinning. This was all just so messed up. It was just supposed to be a peaceful arrest. Neal was supposed to be alone, he was supposed to go peacefully, he wasn't supposed to have a partner and shoot one off the arresting agents and kidnap the other!

"Peter?"

"Why?" Peter's voice was strained as he asked Neal why he left. Why he destroyed everything he and Peter had worked so hard for.

Neal was frowning. He looked like he had aged ten years in two seconds.

"Because Peter the System is wrong."

Peter couldn't believe it. Neal really was just another screwed up criminal. They all said more or less the same thing. That the government was wrong. That the justice system was a joke. Peter was just about to tell Caffery just what he was thinking when he interrupted him.

"Peter the System only works if the people working it weren't using it as a weapon."


	5. Chapter 4

Peter looked at Neal in disbelieve.

"Neal, you need help." and he truly believed he did. Something must have happened and now Neal was as paranoid as Mozzie.

Neal stood up from his chair so abruptly that it fell to the ground. Peter winced at the harsh sound of wood against tile.

"I'm not crazy dammnit!"

Neal was glaring at Peter with fire in his eyes. He knew what he was talking about. He wasn't some paranoid wack job.

Neal walked over to the side table and pulled out a worn manilla file. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut the ropes holding Peter's arms in place. He thrust the file into Peter's numb hands.

"That's everything we have on the corruption going on at the FBI." said the woman. She was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Inside the file were photos of FBI agents in back ally exchanges, meetings with mob families, and other incriminating scenes. There were witness reports that had been overlooked because they suddenly came back and retracted their statement. The entire file was made up of damning evidence against multiple agents and higher-ups in the FBI. There must have been dozens of them! How could he not have noticed that the justice system that he defended and believed in was corrupt and rotten to the core.

The day I disappeared, Grace here was in my apartment when I got home.

Flashback

Neal opened the door to his apartment, he was excited for a night full of wine and eight hours of sleep.

He flipped the light switch and jumped when he saw the woman perched on the edge of his dining room table.

"Hello Neal." she said as she calmly put her hands up to show him that she was unarmed.

"Who are you?" Neal sled as he walked over to his wine rack and poured himself a glass to hide his apprehension. After a second thought, he poured a second glass for his 'guest'.

"My name's Agent Grace Topen. I'm from Violent Crimes." she said as she took the glass of wine.

Neal straddled a chair so that he was facing her.

"Mind telling me what an FBI agent is doing waiting for me inside my apartment in the dark and sitting on my dining room table?' Neal asked, raising an eyebrow.

He saw the amusement in her eyes as she took a sip of wine.

"I'll be upfront with you Mr. Caffrey. What I'm about to ask you to do isn't sanctioned by the FBI. It's dangerous and some aspects of the job could led you to take some not so legal actions." she said, deciding to give Neal the final decision.

Neal looked at her suspiciously. She seemed sincere and seemed to be genuinely concerned about whatever she was bringing him.

"What is it?"

Agent Topen's shoulders sagged as if a great weight had been lifted from her. She pulled out a brand new Manilla folder and opened it. There were a couple of witness statements and soon pictures.

"I've been doing some surveillance and I have valid reason to believe that there is deep corruption in the FBI."she said. Her expression was grim.

Neal picked up the file and what he saw spoke volumes. There were agents conspiring with known mobsters and several illegal meetings with drug dealers. He recognized a few higher ups in the photos.

"Well," said Neal, "seems interesting."

The woman was smiling now.

"What can I do to help." he said with certainty.

"What are you willing to do?" It was a loaded question. No doubt, this would draw attention, and if these people knew they were poking around?

"What will happen if I don't? If I leave this all alone?" he asked.

Agent Topen's face darkened.

"Then they will continue to use and manipulate the system to their advantage. Innocent men will go to jail. The people who eventually poke around disappear. Children and spouses are kidnapped for leverage. The list goes on and on."

Neal kept his eyes on his glass. He quickly downed the rest of the wine and looked at the agent across from him.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

"Give me your ankle." she said. She set her glass down on th stable and rummaged around in her purse.

Meanwhile Neal got up and placed his foot up on the table so that his anklet was easier to reach.

The agent pulled the key to his anklet out of her purse. Neal watched, detached, as she unlocked his anklet and pulled it off.

"Now what?" Neal asked.

"Now?" Agent Grace Topen fixed her green eyes on his blue ones. "Now we run."

WC*WC*WC*WC*WC*WC

Peter stared at Neal. He had the evidence in his hands. Neal seemed to be telling the truth, but there was still one thing that bothered him.

"And you just left? Just like that! We thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere! You ran Neal! You ran and barely gave a thought to the people you left behind!" Peter shouted.

Neal flinched at every accusation Peter hurled at him.

'Good.' Peter thought.

"I was going to contact you." Neal said softly.

"Then what stopped you." Peter whispered. His voice held so much anger and contempt that Neal flinched again.

Feeling the tension in the room, Grace excused herself; mumbling something about checking on Reeves.

Peter glared at Neal expectantly.

Neal sighed. "It's a long story."

"The only people who know we're here are me and Agent Reeves.You have all night."

A little voice in the back of Peter's head was telling him that this was a bad idea. He just told a known fugitive that no one was going to come looking for him and the other agent, the other injured agent, the agent that this fugitive had shot.

Neal sighed again, but righted his chair and sat down.

"We were in Chicago."


	6. Chapter 5

Neal was sitting at the dining room table in Grace Topen's apartment. Looking around, he had to admit that Agent had good taste.

He was taking a closer look at the file she had given him, but it was late and the words were swimming around the page.

Finally giving up, Neal picked up his phone. Now seemed like a good time to call Peter. No doubt, he would have gotten a call from the Marshals by now. His finger hesitated over the cell button. Agent Topen had warned him multiple times not to contact anyone, but this was Peter.

He was just about to press the call button when the phone was slapped out of his hand.

"Are you crazy!"

Grace Topen must have returned and he hadn't noticed, to absorbed in his head.

She had snatched the phone and was strolling through his call history. Finally she looked up and glared at him.

"What are you thinking? The only way this whole thing can work is if we work completely alone!"

Frankly, Neal was annoyed. He had hardly slept, some strange woman had broken into his apartment, he had gone from a criminal informant to a fugitive in one night.

"This is Peter! I trust him with my life!"

"It doesn't matter! He will try to talk you out of this, or worse try to help!" she yelled. "He will call in favors, ask for help. The more people who know about this, the more people who get hurt!"

She was waving the phone around, trying to emphasize her point. The sound of glass shattering and the phone exploding shot through apartment. Agent Topen and Neal ducked behind the island as bullets rained down on them. Glass was shattering, wood was splintering, it was chaos. 

Agent Topen had her hand clutched to her chest in pain. There were several pieces of the broken phone embedded in her hand.

"Sniper." she hissed through clinched teeth.

Neal cautiously poked his head out to see if they had a way out. When a bullet whizzed by his ear he hurriedly pulled himself back behind the island and pressed his back against it.

"You got a fire escape?" Neal turned towards Grace.

"Down the hall, second door on the left."

Neal sat up on his haunches.

"You ready?" he asked.

The agent nodded and got in a position to make a break for it.

Taking a breath, Neal launched himself out from behind the island, Grace not far behind him. They ran as fast as they could. A bullet hit the door frame just in front of Neal's face. The exploding wood grazed his forehead and left a gash just below his hairline. He would have skidded to a stop if Agent Topen hadn't shoved him from behind.

They finally made it to the fire escape. Neal barely registered the fact that this must be Agent Topen's room before they were hurriedly climbing down into the alleyway.

They hailed a cab and rode it to the nearest bus stop. From there they snuck on to a bus going god knows where.


	7. Chapter 6

"So let me get this straight."

Peter was staring at the stoic looking Neal in disbelief. 

"You're telling me that you disappeared without a trace or any communication, but that's all okay because you almost did?" 

By the end of his tirade, Peter was yelling. Neal seemed to slightly recoil from his once beat friend. The woman in the corner seemed to be frustrated with the nonexistent progress made so far. A quick glance at her watch proved that they'd been there for at least three hours so far. 

"Did you even listen to him? At all?" Grace growled. She was fed up with this stubborn agent. 

"I will tell you again, and I'll speak slowly so your pathetic little brain can keep up." Grace had stalked forward till she was inches away from the bound agent‘s face. 

"He. Couldn't. Tell. You." she hissed. 

"I really couldn't." said Neal. He was slumped over the back of the chair. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept in days. 

"If I had told you, you would have tried to help me. You would use FBI resources to do it." Neal rubbed a hand over his face. 

"There was only three outcomes to something this big. You kept your mouth shut and did nothing, what I'm doing which is trying to shut them down on the run, or you and anyone you might have told loses their job or are discredited or end up dead."

Peter was floored. For the past two years, he had told himself that Neal was being selfish. That he didn't care about him or anyone that he had gotten close to while he had been consulting with White Collar. If this was true then that meant that Neal had given up any chance of freedom to keep them safe. 

"Alright. Now what?" 

The look on Neal's face was almost enough to make him laugh. Almost. 

Grace hid a smile and answered Peter's question. 

"Now," she said, her smile turning savage, "I get to drop Agent Reeves off at the hospital." 

Peter watched, confused as Neal smirked at his girlfriend. 

"Just remember, he has a gunshot wound. Don't embarrass him too badly." 

Grace winked and practically skipped out of the room. Neal shook his head and smiled indulgently. 

"God I love her, but she has a vindictive streak a mile long." 

The casual way he said it 'god I love her' spoke volumes about how significant this woman was to Neal. A lot had changed in the past two years. 

Peter looked at the fair t bloodstain he could see in the kitchen and shivered. 

Yes, a lot has changed.


	8. Chapter 7

Neal was sitting at the dining room table in Grace Topen’s apartment. Looking around, he had to admit that Agent had good taste. 

He was taking a closer look at the file she had given him, but it was late and the words were swimming around the page. 

Finally giving up, Neal picked up his phone. Now seemed like a good time to call Peter. No doubt, he would have gotten a call from the Marshals by now. His finger hesitated over the cell button. Agent Topen had warned him multiple times not to contact anyone, but this was Peter.

He was just about to press the call button when the phone was slapped out of his hand. 

“Are you crazy!”

Grace Topen must have returned and he hadn't noticed, to absorbed in his head. 

She had snatched the phone and was strolling through his call history. Finally she looked up and glared at him.

“What are you thinking? The only way this whole thing can work is if we work completely alone!”

Frankly, Neal was annoyed. He had hardly slept, some strange woman had broken into his apartment, he had gone from a criminal informant to a fugitive in one night. 

“This is Peter! I trust him with my life!”

“It doesn’t matter! He will try to talk you out of this, or worse try to help!” she yelled. “He will call in favors, ask for help. The more people who know about this, the more people who get hurt!”

She was waving the phone around, trying to emphasize her point. The sound of glass shattering and the phone exploding shot through apartment. Agent Topen and Neal ducked behind the island as bullets rained down on them. Glass was shattering, wood was splintering, it was chaos. 

Agent Topen had her hand clutched to her chest in pain. There were several pieces of the broken phone embedded in her hand. 

“Sniper.” she hissed through clinched teeth.

Neal cautiously poked his head out to see if they had a way out. When a bullet whizzed by his ear he hurriedly pulled himself back behind the island and pressed his back against it. 

“You got a fire escape?” Neal turned towards Grace. 

“Down the hall, second door on the left.”

Neal sat up on his haunches. 

“You ready?” he asked. 

The agent nodded and got in a position to make a break for it. 

Taking a breath, Neal launched himself out from behind the island, Grace not far behind him. They ran as fast as they could. A bullet hit the door frame just in front of Neal’s face. The exploding wood grazed his forehead and left a gash just below his hairline. He would have skidded to a stop if Agent Topen hadn’t shoved him from behind.

They finally made it to the fire escape. Neal barely registered the fact that this must be Agent Topen’s room before they were hurriedly climbing down into the alleyway. 

They hailed a cab and rode it to the nearest bus stop. From there they snuck on to a bus going god knows where.


	9. Chapter 8

Peter felt a headache coming on. This sounded more fitting in a bad action movie then real life. 

Of course, Neal never did like to do what was expected of him. 

“Peter?” Neal was looking at him with no small amount of trepidation. His story was preposterous, outlandish. No man in their right mind would believe the words falling from the con man’s mouth.

Lucky for him, Peter couldn’t exactly be considered sane. 

“What happened next?”

Neal slumped against the back of the chair, this time in relief. He let out a huff and straightened up, rubbing a hand over his face as he gathered his thoughts. 

“Well.” he said. “We hopped buses for a while. When we finally got off, Grace was nearly out. She had lost too much blood. I can’t count the amount of times we had to get off just because we had to change the bandages.”


End file.
